Home > Billionaire with Benefits (Romancelandia #2)(25)

Billionaire with Benefits (Romancelandia #2)(25)
Author: Anne Tenino

Dalton watched him walk into the darker end of the loft, passing a huge table with scrollwork legs and fret-backed chairs. Totally not the right style for this place or that man.

Had he actually been trying to seduce Tierney?

Didn’t matter. Even if he had been, it was an obvious fail. Spewing all over your object of interest tended to have negative consequences. Slouching on Tierney’s couch, resting his head on the back and closing his eyes, he listened to Tierney run water in the kitchen. Okay, yes, that had been embarrassing, but a potential save, right? Because anything happening between them would be a nightmare.

The water shut off, and Tierney’s footsteps—soft, bare ones—started back toward him, but Dalton didn’t move. He was trying to figure out what to do from here. The couch bounced under his butt when Tierney flopped down next to him, and it jogged his brain into providing the answer: get to know Tierney better. Because, as douchey as he could be around other people, Tierney still intrigued Dalton.

He opened his eyes and rolled his head to see Tierney studying him, face serious, brows pulled together. “I thought you were sleeping.”

Dalton smiled. “I can’t fall asleep that fast. I was just thinking.” He straightened out of his slouch. “Did you bring back a rag so I can clean up?”

Tierney inspected his own shirt. “You pretty much only got it on me, and I cleaned me up.” He reached out, grabbing one of two glasses on the coffee table. He’d also brought a different bottle back from the kitchen. It was shaped like a wine bottle—that’s what Dalton had thought it was at first—but then the small bowl of ice and pitcher of water next to it wouldn’t be necessary.

“Gonna teach you how to drink bourbon.” Tierney seemed so pleased with the idea, lines around his eyes crinkling up with his smile.

“You might start by teaching me how to drink. I’m sorry about that.”

Tierney waved him off, dropped some ice cubes in the glass, then poured a small amount of the alcohol in.

“Eagle Rare,” Dalton read aloud.

“The bourbon before wasn’t aged as long as this. This stuff’s better, you’ll be able to get it down.” Tierney smiled as he added water until the glass was half-full. He lifted it, turning to Dalton and letting it hover just under his chin. This time when Dalton took the drink, he didn’t try any more suggestive finger porn, barely touching Tierney’s skin.

It still made him tingle a little. But maybe that was the alcohol tickling his nose. Uh-huh.

“Sip it carefully,” Tierney said.

Dalton raised his brows. “I thought that’s what I tried before.”

“That was straight alcohol. This is smoother, has water cutting it, and you know what to expect now.”

“I’ve had bourbon.” Just not for years, and he’d hacked until he was hoarse that time. And for all he knew, that had been whiskey.

Tierney grinned. “Yeah, I could tell.”

Sigh. It was much lighter in color. He sipped, glancing at Tierney from under his lashes, like maybe that would give him a clue whether he did it right.

He didn’t cough, but he had to fight the urge. His throat still burned, though, and he’d be hard-pressed to tell someone how the bourbon actually tasted.

“See?” Tierney turned back to the coffee table and dropped some ice cubes into the other glass. “It’s pretty good.”

“Eh.”

The expression of horror on Tierney’s face was priceless. Dalton laughed. “Sorry. It’s all right, but I really don’t think I’m the ideal consumer of alcohol. I’ve just never been that into it.” He settled back into the cushions, sipping once more—yeah, still not great—and watched Tierney fill his glass half-full of bourbon and splash a teaspoon of water in on top. Why bother with the water at all?

Tierney took a drink and sighed, making a weird sort of pleasure-grimace. “Wanna watch more Star Trek?”

Dalton shrugged. “Not really.” He wanted to talk. See if there really was anything more to this man.

“You don’t like Star Trek?”

“I do, but I’m a fan of The Next Generation and the other series after that. Kirk’s so . . .” He curled his lip, hoping that would explain it.

“’M starting to think that too.” Tierney looked absently at the television. Whatever episode had been on before was over, and the screen saver program was starting, landscape photos drifting across the black. “Sulu’s hot though. I used to watch it as a kid all the time; I was really into it. I even tried to get my dad to take me to a convention.”

“So you were a geek?” Dalton teased, feeling better now. He’d embarrassed himself, sure, but it had turned out all right, and now he had a solid mission of friendship to undertake. It made things seem brighter. Or maybe it was the mellow glow spreading out from his stomach that was affecting his outlook.

Tierney snorted. “Yeah, pretty much. I was the dorky kid and my brother was the future business tycoon. That dude formed a golf team in our grade school. Freak.”

“You just have one brother, right? I have three—two cops and an accountant.”

“Andrea, Ian’s assistant, is your sister, right? Why does she hate me so much? Never mind, I think I know.”

Thank God, because he’d have a hard time answering that. He didn’t want to tell Tierney it was because he was a general asshat even if they both knew it was true. “Yeah, she’s my only sister. She’s almost seven years older than me, and two of our brothers are older than her. My brother Luke was five when I was born. I was a surprise. It’s a very Catholic thing.” Okay, maybe the bourbon was kind of nice tasting. Or at least not repulsive.

“You’re the baby? So’m I, but there are only the two of us, and Chase is just a couple years older than me. We don’t really like each other.”

“Chase Terrebonne . . .” Dalton wrinkled his nose up. “I know that name; it’s on your company letterhead.” Duh.

Tierney nodded. “He’s the operations VP, and Father is the president.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Really, he’s the CEO, but Father likes the way ‘president’ sounds better.”

“And you’re the vice president of PR and government affairs.”

“Yup.” Tierney turned, tucking one foot up on the couch, rubbing it with his fingers.

“Why don’t you and Chase get along?” Why am I so nosy? Did he really have a right to be asking this man such personal things? Although Tierney had opened up to him before, so maybe.

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